katniss's keeper
by pondlilyrue
Summary: throughout her life's journey, she was never alone. she always had someone watching over her. peeta/katniss


**Katniss's Keeper**

/

1. _The birth of Katniss's keeper_

Katniss's Keeper was born on the third of May. The sun was high in the sky, its rays warming up the world. He was a chubby baby with dimples forming on the corners of his mouth. Bright eyes alight with glee, he sucked on his thumb while scrutinizing the world around him. His tired father wondered what life would be like for his youngest son. He had no idea what was to come. His mama stopped rocking the fair-haired child and set him down for a moment, a sour grape expression forming on her sweaty face.

"I wanted a girl," she bitterly remarked to her husband. "We could've named her Alicia. I have always loved that name," she added a little wistfully. Her husband shook his head determinedly, quiet anger forming its way onto his visage.

"But we got a boy," he defended, eyes shimmering, "Come on, he's got your ash blonde hair and my blue eyes," his wife's face softened a little but she quickly regained her composure, "What should we name him?"

"I don't know," she murmured a response, twirling a piece of long dirty blonde hair around her slender fingers, "I was really expecting a -"

"-a girl," he cut in quickly, "I know that. But look at him; he is perfect." Katniss's Keeper smiled a toothless grin at his father for that, and he quickly returned it.

"I guess so," his wife replied back indifferently. But it was true. The baby was pudgy and innocent to the doings of the world, oblivious to the reapings and the Hunger Games and the separation between rich and poor. Katniss's Keeper started to cry; his mama took him in her arms, a little reluctantly. "Where are the boys?" she asked.

"I dropped them off with Hunter Everdeen. He was more than happy to take care of them. Juliet's got a baby on the way, she is due this month." Her face hardened at the mention of those _Seam brats _and that _woman _who her husband was still so taken with, but she managed a terse nod of the head. She was still too exhausted to argue. _All that hard work for nothing, _she thought to herself.

/

2. _And I swear every bird fell silent..._

Five-year-old Katniss's Keeper was nervous. He adjusted the collar of his sky blue shirt and fidgeted with his khaki pants. He ended up settling for chewing his bottom lip, scraping the plush with his bottom teeth.

"Hurry up, boy. You'll be late for school," his mother snapped at him in a harsh manner that made him cringe. He only wanted to please her. "What were you doing anyway, you lousy creature!" She glared at him and he shrunk away, scared.

"Maya, stop it," his father scolded her, smelling heavily of icing and freshly baked bread. "He's only five."

"Whatever," she muttered, walking away but not without roughly tugging on Katniss's Keeper's arm. He winced a little bit from the pain resounding on his chubby little arm, and his father's eyes filled with unshed tears.

"Come on, little boy," he told him affectionately, "We need to get to school." Katniss's Keeper bobbed his head back and forth, having no idea what that day might bring.

They quietly shuffled through the neatly kept streets of the merchant side of District Twelve. The mockingjays were chirping happily, lifting Katniss's Keeper's mood only the slightest. His stomach did little jumps at the thought of going to school. He wondered if he would make any friends; people tended to like him, but he wasn't entirely sure. Just when they rounded the corner, and the school came into sight, the five-year-old blonde tugged on his father's calloused hand.

"Daddy, I'm scared," he whimpered to his father, "I don't know anyone, daddy."

"But you will," his father insisted, "You are very good at making friends. And I know some of these kids too." His little boy's eyes grew hopeful.

"You do?" Katniss's Keeper piped. His father smiled as his son's ocean blue eyes, so much like his own, shined with hope. He nodded. "Show me!"

"See that little girl?" The baker pointed to a small girl with long black hair worn into two intricately done braids and a red plaid dress. His son nodded. "I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner." Katniss's Keeper looked up at his father, his face incredulous.

"A coal miner? Why should she want a coal miner if she could've had you?" He simply worshipped his father. The baker was Katniss's Keeper's number one role model; he wanted to be exactly like him. The thought of someone turning down his father made him feel rather doubtful. His daddy sighed and stared at the girl in the red plaid dress, a faraway look about him, lost in memories.

"Because," he began softly, "when he sang, even the birds stopped to listen."

Katniss's Keeper wondered what that meant. Before he could ask, the whistle blew, and, with a kiss to the forehead, his father disappeared with the other parents. Just like what his father said, he quickly made friends with a yellow-haired, lumpy girl who kept telling him her name was Delly Cartwright. He also played a quick game of Follow the Leader with the other boys his age, from his side of town.

Then came Music Assembly, the time when everything changed. It started out normal – they sang a quick warm up at the beginning of class – then Mrs. Thickwood cleared her throat and asked:

"Who knows the Valley Song?" One olive-skinned hand shot quickly into the air, solo. Katniss's Keeper craned his head to see who it was and found it was the girl his father pointed out. The girl whose dad made the birds stop to listen.

"Excellent," Mrs. Thickwood piped. She sat the pretty little girl down on a hardwood stool. "Now, sweetie, what's your name?"

"Katniss Everdeen," came the reply without hesitation. _Katniss, _Katniss's Keeper thought, _what a pretty name. I heard that there are plants called katniss in the scary woods outside District Twelve._

"Okay, you can begin anytime you want," Mrs. Thickwood told her. And Katniss Everdeen opened her mouth and began to sing. And Katniss's Keeper swore every bird fell silent. At that moment, he knew he was a goner. He felt weak to the knees and his face heated up. All his friends asked what was wrong with him. He didn't respond. For this day went down in history for him.

That was the day he fell in love with Katniss Everdeen.

That was the day he became Katniss's Keeper.

/

3. _I think about it all the time; how I tossed you that bread._

Katniss's Keeper was working in the bakery, helping his mother bake a fresh batch of raisin nut bread. He ignored all her cryptic remarks about his worthlessness and tried to hide the tears forming in the corner of his eyes. He determinedly stared out the window, into the backyard. Just as he was scrutinizing the apple tree, he saw his mother's eyes fill with anger. Wondering what that was about, he followed his mother out the back door where she was determinedly yelling at someone.

"You unworthy Seam brat! There's nothing in the trash! Go somewhere else, you piece of -" Katniss's Keeper tuned out the rest of her angry rant and found who she was ratting on. First, he saw a skinny figure, then an ebony braid and grey eyes. Katniss. She was starving; he had seen her at school and how she was slowly dwindling away. He knew her mother had given up on helping her family since her father died and they were losing hope. _Hope. _That was the thing she needed. It was the only thing stronger than fear. Running inside at a determined pace, he put the bread in the oven, making sure just the end was burnt. Katniss's Keeper's mother would not accept burnt bread at the bakery. His mother hurried inside, and when she saw the bread, she flipped.

"Feed it to the pigs you worthless creature!" Katniss's Keeper yelled at her eleven year-old son, her features contorting with rage. She slapped her son hard against the cheek, causing a welt and a black eye to sprout, and Katniss's Keeper stared at his mother in awe. Sure, she had maimed him before, but not to this extent. The burnt bread in his hands reminded him of where he was, so he managed a nod.

The bell rung in the bakery and his mother disappeared to help a customer. Breathing a sigh of relief, he tossed some bread over to the pigs who gobbled it up quickly. But, that was not the reason he was there. Katniss, curled up in fetal position under the apple tree, looking sick and starved, broke his eleven year old heart. He already loved her and couldn't _stand _to see her in this pain. He was her keeper anyways. She looked up at him, confused, so he bit his lip and tossed her two loaves of hearty raisin nut bread, only a little burnt on the sides. She hurriedly stuffed it under her father's old hunting jacket and left quickly, but not without giving him a burning look of gratitude. That he would never forget. Katniss's Keeper rushed back into the bakery and went back to what he was doing, kneading dough and thinking of Katniss.

The next day at school, Katniss did seem a little brighter. He hoped she didn't see him staring at her so intensely at lunchtime, making sure there was food on the table she shared with Madge. There seemed to be something, so he quickly turned back around to his friends' conversations. But, at the end of the day, he did notice her looking at him while he was checking her out, so he quickly flitted his eyes away, but not before he saw her pick a dandelion. The first of the year. There was hope.

/

_4. My name drawn in the reaping was a real piece of luck_

Sixteen year-old Katniss's Keeper could not sleep that night. Tossing and turning in his rickety bed, he drove his older brother, Rylee, crazy. Muttering under his breath, he hid his face underneath his pillow to drown out his cries. The nightmare he had just experience loomed over him, his visage draining of color. "Katniss," he murmured under his breath. His dream had included her name being drawn at tomorrow's reaping and her competing in the horror known as The Hunger Games. Mutts biting off her piece by piece, spears thrown into her slender stomach, bow and arrows drawn, the visuals would not stop haunting him. He didn't worry for himself; he only had five slips of paper whereas Katniss had around twenty. Already giving up on the thought of sleeping, he decided to draw in his sketchbook. Katniss's Keeper got out of bed, smoothing down the length of his tattered pajama pants, he fumbled through his belongings as quietly as he could (for Rylee's sake) and picked up the old leather-binded book. Shuffling through the different images of Katniss and sunsets, he found a blank page and began to draw. The reaping bowl. Katniss in her reaping clothes. Effie Trinket, the district escort. Haymitch Abernathy, the only living District Twelve victor, with a shot of alcohol in hand. The art was never ending. It did seem to calm him in a strange way, drawing out his problems, solving issues with colored pencils and parchment. So, Katniss's Keeper created art until the sun came up, then he attempted to fall asleep again, where he would fall into the arms of nightmares.

Waking up screaming at twelve o'clock was not necessarily what he wanted, but today was already horrific. Katniss's Keeper washed himself as best as he could then dressed in a white buttoned down shirt and khaki pants. Reluctantly smoothing his hair with gel, just the way mama wanted, he looked at himself in the mirror. Last night's episode was not clear with his appearance. He looked handsome, he had to admit, but the threat of the day loomed over the teenager. He hurried down the stairs to the bakery where his father stood.

"Morning, son," The baker murmured, worry creasing his face. It was obvious he heard his son screaming but decided not to mention it for his sake. "Take whatever you want." On the table was an assortment of bread, pastries and treats. Katniss's Keeper mouth watered slightly at the sight of it and he wiped it quickly, embarassed. This was not a usual breakfast for the family, they always had stale bread. But, today was not a usual day. Reaping day.

He stuffed his mouth with a bunch of cookies, but not feeling too hungry. His nerves for Katniss were getting the best of him. When he was done, his mother and Rylee came out to join them to head for the square. The square usually had a holiday feel to it, but not that day. Everything felt sullen. The Capitol symbol, the bright colors, the maniacal district escort, Effie Trinket. Katniss's Keeper quickly scanned through the crowd and found Katniss signing in, with a beautiful blue dress on, and her sister at her side. Her sister, Primrose Everdeen, was possibly the sweetest twelve year old you would ever meet. _Twelve, _thought Katniss's Keeper, _oh no. _It would be Prim's first reaping and he knew Katniss would be worried out of her mind for her sister, whom she loved more than anything.

Katniss's Keeper tuned out the beginning of the reaping ceremony, his thoughts far away, until he heard the vital: "Ladies' first." And hoped, prayed, and wished that it wasn't Katniss Everdeen. And it wasn't. It was Primrose Everdeen. His face turned pale white, as did Katniss's, and he stared straight ahead, hating the damned Capitol more than anything for what they did. Katniss's Keeper heard a strangled cry from the audience. "Prim!" He recognized that voice. "Prim!" He heard it again. Oh, no. "I volunteer! I volunteer as a tribute!"

Katniss Everdeen volunteered as a tribute for her sister. She was going into the Hunger Games. She could _die. _She could _die. _How was he going to protect her? He was caught up in his worries that he didn't hear Effie Trinket's voice until it said his name.

Oh, shit.

Well, at least she would be protected. He was her Keeper. Maybe his name being drawn in the reaping _was _a real piece of luck.

/

_5. Because.. because she came here with me_

"Haymitch, listen to me," Katniss's Keeper growled as he scrubbed the vomit off the old drunkard's legs. "I know you are probably intoxicated, but can you here me?"

"Yes, slow down, boy. So... " The paunchy old man pressed his lips together in a thin line, searching for the right word, "eager. Now, tell me, what is your oh-so-worthy plan?"

"Okay, I guess you'll remember this tomorrow," the Keeper said. "You know, Katniss, the girl tribute? I'm in love with her, have been since I was five years old. I think I can work this to her advantage. What do you say?"

"Definitely, boy. But, how are we going to do this?" Haymitch Abernathy asked his sixteen year old tribute. "I guess, we could use your interview."

Katniss's Keeper grinned. "Exactly."

During the time of the interviews, two weeks later, Katniss's Keeper played up the baker's son's image during his interview. He was everything Haymitch ordered him to be – charming, funny, likeable, and desirable. So, when Caesar Flickerman asked if there was a special girl back home (the inevitable question for any attractive male tribute), he gave an unconvincing shake of his head.

"Handsome lad like you. There must be some special girl. Come on, what's her name?" probed the midnight-blue-haired interviewer. Katniss's Keeper gave an audible sigh.

"Well, there is this one girl. I've had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I'm pretty sure she didn't know I was alive until the reaping."

Sounds of sympathy echoed throughout the over-dramatic Capitol crowd. The unrequited love angle really did work in his and her favor.

"She have another fellow?" Caesar pressed on and he hedged.

"I don't know, but a lot of boys like her." That was an understatement. He saw the looks boys gave her in the Seam and at school. They were all over the mysterious, reclusive, ever-intimidating Everdeen.

"So, here's what you do. You win, you go home. She can't turn you down then, eh?" Caesar attempted to encourage the fair-haired tribute who shook his head sadly.

"I don't think it's going to wrk out. Winning.. won't help in my case."

"Why ever not?" Caesar Flickerman truly was curious as to what the boy tribute meant. Said boy blushed to the color of cherries and stammered out.

"Bcause... because... she came here with me."

/

_6. You here to finish me off, sweetheart?  
_

Katniss's Keeper was not doing well, you could say. _Cato really outdid himself_, he thought to himself sardonically as he lay dying in the mud bank. He knew that he could possibly have blood poisoning and that thought didn't really cheer him up either. He drifted in and out of conscience, murmuring her name in his sleep. He really was playing up the Starcrossed Lovers of District Twelve ordeal well because he didn't have to pretend. She was his life. At least he did his job of protecting her.

Footsteps were heard around the river bank. Who would come here? With his rather expert camoflauge, he doubted anyone saw him underneath all the rocks and grass and mud that were full of creepy crawlies. Just when the visitor came into his line of vision, did he breathe a sigh of relief. Katniss. Had she come to find him? They could both win now. He would've found her if he could've. Her black hair was braided into her traditional side braid, her arena jacket slung across her slim shoulders, she didn't look too well but he thought she was so beautiful that it made his breath catch into his throat. Katniss's leather boots were coming near him. Oh, crap, she was going to step on him.

To alert her of his presence, he said in a hoarse voice, "You here to finish me off, sweetheart?" Katniss jumped in surprise and it made him chuckle. She was always so jumpy, hunter's instincts.

She called his name several times, searching furiously for the now-camoflauged son of a baker. "Well, don't step on me," he interposed her calling. Her eyes widened as she realized that Katniss's Keeper was right underneath her and she saw his unmistakable blue eyes right under her feet.

"Close your eyes again," she demanded and he did so. He really outdid himself. She knelt beside him and murmured, "I guess all those hours decorating cakes paid off."

Katniss's Keeper couldn't help but smile. "Yes, frosting. The final defense of the dying." The black haired beauty's face hardened.

"You're not going to die."

"Says who?" Her keeper asked in a weak voice.

"Says me. We're on the same team now, you know," she told him firmly. He opened his eyes at that and managed a small smile..

"So, I heard. Nice of you to find what's left of me." His ironic and sarcastic statement didn't go over well with her. Katniss rumaged through her pack and got out her water botttle and lifted it to his lips. She got him talking about what Cato did to him and eventually cleaned him up enough so he looked somewhat decent. Somewhat.

They found a cave to settle down in. "Katniss," Katniss's Keeper said softly, "thanks for finding me." He did find it somewhat strange that he was her keeper and it ended up being her finding him, protecting him, fighting for him.

"You would have found me if you could," she told him and it was a very honest statement. Katniss's Keeper would have gone to any distance to find her and help her. She was the reason he lived, the reason he breathed, and he would not let her die. She would win this thing, and, hopefully, with him. If he could make it back.

"Yes. Look, if I don't make it back - " he begun but was cut off by Katniss who scolded him.

"Don't talk like that. I didn't drain all that pus for nothing," she said firmly, her brows creased with determination that he had seen so often with her. She was a blazing inferno that would stop at nothing. He knew that, somehow, he could make it back but he needed to tell her this.

"I know. But just in case I don't -" Katniss's Keeper attempted again but she cut him off by putting a finger to his lips. He needed to tell her to his face that he loved her, that this was not a ploy for the cameras, that this was not for the show. That he truly, sincerely, purely and completely was enamored by her existense and needed her in his life.

"No, Peeta. I don't even want to discusss it," she said with a hardened look. He was just as stubborn as she.

"But I-"

Katniss's Keeper was cut off by his first ever kiss, a touch of the lips in the cave. He knew it probably revolted her that he was burning with fever and didn't know anything about kissing. He tried not to bite her lips too much and hesitantly kissed her back. She tasted sweet, of pine and the woods, and he hung onto her for dear life. He didn't know what would happen later in the arena. But, tonight, they were just star-crossed lovers.

/

_7. It was all for the games. How you acted._

Haymitch Abernathy laid a hand on Katniss' back. "Great job you two," he murmured, confusing Katniss's Keeper, "Just keep it up in the district until the cameras are gone. We should be okay." For some reason unknown to the blonde-haired victor, Katniss avoided his eyes and glanced at Haymitch's retreating figure.

"What's he mean?" Katniss's Keeper asked her. She had a look of resignation in her eyes before answering:

"It's the Capitol," she made sure her voice was a whisper, "They didn't like our stunt with the berries." It was clear she hadn't meant to say all this, but honesty was the only thing he wanted. But, he was still as puzzled as ever. No one ever told him about what the Capitol thought of the nightlock. For him, it was just two people who loved each other and who refused to be a piece in their Games and kill each other. It wasn't rebellious at all.

"What what are you talking about?" Katniss's Keeper asked, determinedly staring at the gravel on the road in whatever district they were in, Eleven probably, he wasn't paying attention.

"It seemed too rebellious," Katniss answered, "So, Haymitch has been coaching me through the last few days. So I didn't make it worse," she amended, clutching at the flowers he had picked for her with a vice-like grip so they wouldn't disappear or something.

"Coaching you? But not me," The keeper felt a sense of foreboding overcoming him, like dramatic music begun to play, and he knew something bad was going to happen. He was waiting for the final blow.

"He knew you were smart enough to get it right," it was obvious she was not telling him the whole truth and that was what he wanted. So, he decided to probe.

"I didn't know there was anything to get right," he said indignantly, "So, what you're saying is, these last few days and then I guess... back in the arrena... that was just some strategy you two worked out." As he said this, Katniss's Keeper knew it was true. Like the piece of a puzzle finally clicked. All those nights they shared in the cave, the steamy kisses, the words said, the declarations, that was all for the strategy.

"No. I mean, I couldn't even talk to him in the arena, could I?" Katniss stammered. She was a bad liar, and he knew that she was caught red-handed. A pain spread through his chest, threatening to double him over, when he realized this revelation.

"But you knew what he wanted you to do, didn't you?" The keeper guessed and Katniss bit her lip. "Katniss?" He dropped her hand, feeling an agonizing pain spreading through him again, as he said his next words. "It was all for the Games. How you acted."

"Not all of it," she insisted stubbornly.

"Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what's going to be left when we get home?" He prayed that she would say that she truly loved him. and this would all be one great big misunderstanding, but he had always been a dreamer. A hopeless romantic. And he knew this wouldn't have the fairytale ending he had been hoping for.

"I don't know," she barely murmured, "The closer we get to District Twelve, the more confused I get." Katniss's Keeper waited for further explanation but didn't get any.

"Well, let me know when you work it out," Pain laced his tone as he said those words and stalked off to the train and headed straight for his room. He cried himself to sleep that night.

/

_8. You can live a thousand lifetimes and not deserve him_

President Snow, in all his snakelike glory, intoned the next words of his special Quarter Quell announcement.

"And now we honor our third Quarter Quell," The little boy wielding the pristine box stepped forward and let the president open the lid. He fished through the yellowed envelopes until he came across the one marked Seventy Five. Katniss's Keeper drew in a breath as he was plonked down on the couch in his house in the Victor's Village. "On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from the existing pool of victors"

Katniss's Keeper's mind already did the calculation. There were three victors from District Twelve – himself, Haymitch and Katniss. For sure, his lover was going back into the arena. He knew what he had to do. Sprinting as fast as a person could with only one working leg, he arrived at Haymitch's stench-filled house. Pausing only to gag for a slight second, the victor burst through the door and found his mentor dead drunk, at the table, with haunted bloodshot filled eyes.

"Listen, Haymitch," Katniss's Keeper growled. "You owe me. If I get chosen, great. If you do, I will volunteer to protect her. Do you understand? I can't have her.. gone." He shuddered at the thought. "She's my whole life. Please, _please _let me protect her."

"Fine," Haymitch grumbled. "You know, kid, she could live a thousand lifetimes and still not deserve you." Katniss's Keeper rolled his eyes.

"Why am I so great?" He muttered. "I'm.. just a baker."

"Who would do anything for the girl he loves," Haymitch deadpanned. Katniss's Keeper stilled. It was true.

"It's my job, you know. A job I love," The keeper added as he walked back to his own empty house where he would allow himself to cry.

/

_9. If it weren't for the baby_

The bright light of the Capitol stage greets tall-and-strong seventeen year-old Katniss's Keeper. His blonde hair is kept natural, this time, his fair bangs across his forehead. Caesar Flickerman, now in a pastel lavender, greets him and they open with the usual jokes and easy banter they had established the night of the 74th Hunger Games interview.

Katniss's Keeper made sure the audience knew he was preocuppied with another thought so they could steer the interview in the right direction. _Three minutes, three minutes_, rushed through his head. Three minutes to light a spark that could turn into a blazing inferno.

"So," Caesar Flickerman began, getting onto the topic everyone was thinking about, "What was it like when, after all you've been through, you found out about the Quell?" Katniss's Keeper felt a rush of anger surge through him just at that topic. The Quell. The snakelike president made sure Katniss would go back in so there was no chance she could survive. He fought hard to appear cool, calm, and collected.

"I was in shock. I mean, one minute I'm seeing Katniss looking so beautiful in all these wedding gowns, and the next.." The teenaged keeper trailed off, showing how upset he was.

"You realized there was never going to be a wedding?" Caesar asked gently. Katniss's Keeper looked down. Now was the time to win the crowd over. He looked up at the audience and then the floor again, then finally at the interviewer.

"Caesar, do you think all our friends here can keep a secret?" A laugh resounded through the audience, a nervous one though, the Capitol citizens placing bets on what it was about.

"I feel quite certain of it," Caesar affirmed. Katniss's Keeper swallowed and he looked Caesar right in the eye, blue to an unnatural purple iris.

"We're already married," The keeper stated quietly. Cameras panned in on said girl who hid her beautiful face in the folds of her smoldering skirt. Astonishment raged through the audience. Cries of disbelief from the overly-invested watchers and grumbles about what one of their favorite victors was talking about. And, mostly, puzzlement. They were waiting for a great ceremony for the Starcrossed Lovers of District Twelve.

"But... how can that be?" Caesar interrogated Katniss's Keeper who waved him off.

"Oh, it's not an official marriage. We didn't go to the Justice Building or anything. But we have this marriage ritual in District Twelve. I don't know what it it's like in the other district. But there's this thing we do..." Katniss's Keeper went on to explain the traditional toasting in District Twelve which stunned all the Capitol citizens.

"Were your families there?" The purple host probed.

"No, we didn't tell anyone. Not even Haymitch. And Katniss's mother would never have approved. But you see, we knew If we were married in the Capitol, there wouldn't be a toasting. And neither of us really wanted to wait any longer. So one day, we just did it. And to us, we're more married than any piece of paper or big party could make us," The blonde haired victor responded.

"So this was before the Quell?" Casear asked.

"Of course before the Quell. I'm sure we'd never have done it after we knew," Katniss's Keeper could feel his temper rising. _That damned Capitol! _"But who could've seen it coming? No one. We went through the Games, we were victors, everyone seemed so thrilled to see us together, and then out of nowhere – I mean, how could we anticipate a thing like that?"

"You couldn't," Caesar had put a reassuring arm around the blonde's shoulders, and the victor had to fight himself to not shrug it off. "As you say, no one could've. But I have to confess, I'm glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together." Applause rung through the crowd and Katniss looked up from her beautiful dress and smiled, her eyes teary.

"I'm not glad," Katniss's Keeper told. "I wish we had waited until the whole thing was done officially." Caesar looked truly taken aback, he would never have had thought that the victor would respond like that.

"Surely even a brief time is better than no time?" He asked.

"Maybe I'd think that too, Caesar," said the keeper bitterly. _5, 4, 3, 2, 1, _he thought to himself, "if it weren't for the baby."

The bomb exploded.

Cries of outrage soared through the crowd. Accusations of injustice, barabrism, cruelty exonerated through the heavily made up audience. No one could hear the buzzer. Katniss's Keeper took a deep breath, quite proud of his expert lie, nodded then took his seat right next to his girl. He didn't speak to her but had only one thought running through his mind.

_Surely someone who can control the Capitol with his words could find a way to bring Katniss home alive._

/

_10. Careful, there's a forcefield up ahead_

All the seventeen year old could remember was running face-first into a forcefield. He could recall the painful ache in his body when he flew back straight on the ground, face-first again. Katniss's Keeper didn't even have the time to curse his own superhuman stupidity before all went black. Could he be dead? He waited for the sound of triumphant trumpets and a "you-are-dead" announcement but didn't find anything. Katniss's Keeper wasn't breathing; he was sure of that. He heard hysterical sobs echoing somewhere near him but couldn't open his eyes to discover who it was. Then, he felt some hard muscle lean over him and suddenly, he was breathing again, air was pumping through his veins and -

Finnick Odair was on top of him, his mouth hovering over his. Katniss's Keeper felt the sudden urge to vomit, flee somewhere and empty out his meager breakfast. Then, it clicked. Finnick was giving him C.P.R., not kissing him. Katniss suddenly came into his vision and he could see tears in her eyes. She ran up, knelt beside him and brushed the hair out of his eyes. Aah, that felt good.

"Careful," he managed in a weak voice, "there's a forcefield up ahead."

/

_11. No one really needs me._

They were facing away from each other, backs pressed together, guarding the camp from the pink night sky. Neither of them said anything until Katniss's Keeper said to her, "Katniss, it's no use pretending we don't know what the other one is trying to do." He knew he had hit a sensitive subject because Katniss flinched. "I don't know what kind of deal you think you've made with Haymitch, but you shoulld know he made me promises as well. So I think we can assume he is lying to one of us." Katniss raised her head and met her keeper's eyes, grey to blue.

"Why are you saying this now?" She murmured, not taking her eyes off of his. He took a deep breath.

"Because I don't want you forgetting how different our circumstances are. If you die, and I live, there's no life for me at all back in District Twelve. You're my whole life," Katniss's Keeper told her passionately, "I would never be happy again." Katniss opened her mouth to speak but he put a finger to her lips. "It's different for you. I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. But there are other people who'd make your life worth living." He took off the mockingjay chain around his neck and held it up in the moonlight. He slid his thumb along a catch, a disc popped open and a locket was revealed. He showed her the pictures he wanted to put in there, so he could convince her that _she needed to get back out alive. _Katniss's Keeper watched his love's face soften.

"No one really needs me," He murmured the truth softly and Katniss's face quickly turned defiant. Not taking her intense gaze off him, she answered.

"I do. I need you." Katniss's Keeper felt upset at this. He knew it was true, but that would be a weakness for her. She needed to leave this awful arena, and stop worrying about him. He would be okay. Because, he knew if the roles were reversed, he couldn't live his life without the girl who made the birds stop to listen with her song.

He was about to object but she silenced him with a kiss. Slow, passionate and hungry, she leant over and put her arms behind his neck, pushing him to the ground. He knew that this kiss was real for her, it didn't seem forced, it seemed that this was just a girl kissing a boy whom she really, _really _likes. They toppled over in the sand of the beach of the 3rd Quarter Quell and continue their passion until the lightning strikes.

/

_12. Katniss! Katniss! Where are you?_

Light. Bursting. Everywhere. A noise that knocked him off his feet. Chaos. Utter chaos. A star in the sky visible. The arena exploded around Katniss's Keeper, who jumped with shiock. Trees caught fire. Blossoms of light fill the sky. Dirts and plants burst in front of his eyes. He swallowed hard and waited for himself to die. Come on, the arena had been destroyed, why the hell wasn't he dead. Dead as a doornail. He hoped, prayed and wished that wherever she was, his love was okay. He felt his throat go scratchy at the thought that she wasn't. So, he stayed stock-still. But, something unexpected happens.

A hovercraft materializes. Was he being rescued? If so, by whom? Katniss's Keeper craned his neck to see who had saved him, expected something way different than what he got. The Capitol seal.

Oh shit.

Oh _shit._

Frantic now, Katniss's Keeper forced to move his legs, run away from the hovercraft. Even if the thought of him outrunning one of the high-tech Capitol creations seemed ludicrous, he had to hold onto whatever little hope he could. But, no, the claws of the hovercraft reached up to engulf him and he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

The next days, hours, weeks or whatever passed by in a blur. All he could remember was drifting in and out of consciousness, worrying about Katniss and flying on the hovercraft. The next time he awoke, he saw that they were pushing him out of the bed he was laying on. Katniss's Keeper jumped out of it and they told him to stay right where he was. Wondering what the hell was going on, he just stood there. A disgusting looking woman with bright green hair put handcuffs on his arms. He looked down at what he was wearing and saw it was the same jumpsuit from the arena. _Nice of them to take care of me, _he thought to himself sardonically.

"Walk," instructed the green haired woman, not even bothering to introduce herself. He walked behind her with guards surrounding him, acting like he was a prisoner. _Prisoner? _Katniss's Keeper couldn't stop the creeping suspicion that told him that that was exactly what he was.

/

_13. Blurring the Lines_

The cold cell that he was being kept in had never seemed this cruel to Katniss's Keeper. He could hear the moans coming from Johanna's cell, and Annie's high-pitched screams, and the sounds would not let him drift to sleep. Perhaps he shouldn't sleep at all; he didn't know what the Capitol would do to him if he was to be as vulernable as to fall asleep. Biting the inside of his cheek, he twiddled his grimy thumbs, a nervous habit he had inherited during his "stay" at the Capitol. Just then, a set of guards came over to him.

"Mr. Mellark, please follow us." What the hell were they going to do to him? Knowing saying no would result in more torture he followed them and was expecting a gas room, a whip or something violent of the sorts, but not this. A white sterile hospital room with a chair and a large video screen. Raising his eyebrows, Katniss's Keeper sat on the chair which they gestured for him to sit on.

"Give me your arm," One of the Capitol doctors told him. The keeper shook his head and held his arm closer to his body stubbornly. "Give me your _arm,_" The doctor repeated sternly. He smacked the keeper in the head which made the fair haired young man wince. In that second of vulnerability, the doctor injected the tracker jacker venom into his veins.

Bright colors.

Orange bubbles.

Ants the size of houses.

Then they turned the television on.

Videos of Katniss drugging him to kill him, aiming arrows at his heart, dropping bombs on District Twelve (particularly the bakery), and her turning into a ravenous mutt bent on ripping his throat out.

"No, no, no, no!" Katniss's Keeper cried in a hoarse voice. "Not real, not real, not real. Please just _stop_. No! No! Stop! Aaahh!" Sobs shook his body as he closed his eyes and tried to shut his eyes but the doctor made sure they stayed open.

"Do you see that? That's Katniss Everdeen. She is a _mutt _and she killed your family. She made you trust her, she seduced you and now look – she killed _everyone._"

"No, stop," Katniss's Keeper muttered, tenacity laced in his tone. "This isn't true! I know what you're trying to do; it won't work."

"Just wait and see," the doctor told him. "Send for President Snow."

That night, as the seventeen year old boy crept into his cell, body bruised and battered, mind foggy, he muttered to himself. "Not real, not real, not real. I won't believe _anything _they tell me."

Weeks later, he gave up the fight.

Lines blurred between real or not real.

Katniss Everdeen was a mutt.

She wanted to kill him.

/

_14. His fingers locked around her throat_

Doctors, not from the Capitol but District Thirteen, kept reassuring Katniss's Keeper everything would be okay. He couldn't stop the tremors that shook his body from months of torture. He had a bad experience with doctors and couldn't quite trust these.. _shady _people. What if they worked for that mutt? His body trembled with rage at the thought of that.. _Katniss Everdeen. _He spat her name in his mind like it was a curse word, the worst kind.

And, then, just like that it happened.

A seriously beautiful girl with long black hair and grey eyes came racing towards him. His heart felt that heavy feeling it always did when he saw her, and he considered kissing her senseless for a second. Then, it clicked in his brain. It's her! It's that mutt who seduced him! That evil, evil mutt who killed everyone he loved! She raced towards him and was about to throw her arms around him and meet their lips when he locked his fingers around her sensitive throat.

Convulsions shook her body.

She couldn't breathe.  
Grim satisfaction coursed through his veins. He did it! He managed to fend off the mutt! Then, that old sot of a mentor (Haymitch Abernathy) came forward and knocked him out with a liquor bottle. That's all he remembered.

He just tried to strangle the mutt, real or not real?

/

_15. You're favorite color_

"You're favorite color.." Katniss's Keeper said slowly, unsurely, he wasn't sure why he was talking to her. He wasn't exactly sure what she was either. She may be human, but he thought she was a mutt for a while. A beautiful mutt if anything, he thought, "it's.. green?" It came out as a question. He couldn't remember anymore.

"That's right," She confirmed, "And yours is orange."

"Orange?" Unconvinced. Orange was a bright, ugly, flashy color in his mind. It clashed with everything. It was hard to paint with orange. It was hard to pick the right shade.

"Not bright orange," She reiterated, "but soft.. like the sunset."

"Oh," Katniss's Keeper closed his eyes and conjured the sunset she painted out for him. It was beautiful; soft, gentle but warm. "Thank you," he said sincerely. Maybe this mutt wasn't so bad after all...?

"You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double not your shoelaces." She told him all these things about himself, things that a mutt wouldn't know, then dived into her tent, hints of tears in her eyes.

Little did she know how much those simple facts helped him.

Because, many weeks later, when the war ended, he had picked up a notebook and a pen and wrote down all those things about himself. A little bit of the old him to hang onto.

/

_16. Stay With Me_

Shiny memories bombard Katniss's Keeper as he stayed huddled against the wall, eyes closed, fighting off the nightmares raging through his head. His head remained firmly planted in his hands. Slender fingers pried his face away and he is face to face with.. what was she to him? Ally, lover, mutt, enemy..?

"Leave me," he whispered. "I can't hang on." He knew the nightmares would take over soon enough. He'd go mad.

"Yes. You can!" Katniss shrieked determinedly. He shook his head.

"I'm losing it. I'll go mad. Like them." She understood what he meant: the mutts. Once again, Katniss's Keeper was losing his tight grip on reality, the lines were blurring between real or not real. He didn't want to get her hurt. He found some things becoming clearer as time went on: how much he loved her, how he would do anything for the huntress. So, he didn't want to ruin the small clearance his brain let him.

And then, once again, she caught him by surprise. Katniss Everdeen leaned in and kissed her keeper full on the mouth. Convulsions shook his body. That.. that.. mu- no, she wasn't a mutt! He actually figured out he liked the feeling of kissing her – so he let her. When she broke apart, gasping for air, she clasped his wrists with her hands. "Don't let him take you from me."

_Him._

Snow.

The one who was responsible for this.

Still, that vision of her killing his family, haunted his mind – scarring him forever. "No.. I don't want to..." He stuttered, panting, fighting the shiny memories.

She clenched his hands so tight he almost winced. He knew, this time, she didn't want to hurt him. "Stay with me," she whispered.

Then it made sense. A faroff memory, a wistful time when Katniss had hurt her foot. He was.. in her bedroom, in her bed, and they were working on the plant book. He was about to leave, when she had murmured, just barely, "Stay with me."

What did he say back? What was that word?

"Always," he murmured.

/

_17. You love me. Real or not real?_

Six months after the rebellion, after Prim's death, after Finnick Odair's demise, after President Coin's execution, after Snow fell dead on the floor outside District Thirteen, Katniss and her keeper made love for the first time. That day, they had visited the Meadow and talked about the future – with no Games holding them back, no worry about survival. They were free to live.

Bare under sheets, sweaty skin, hummingbird heartbeats and identical smiles on their faces, Katniss's Keeper looked at the beautiful woman in front of him. He had finally figured out who she was, who he was, love conquered all. Hope conquered all. Katniss noticed his intense scrutiny, and began to get embarrassed, despite what they had just did.

"What is it?" She asked him.

"I – I- just want to know something," he faltered.

"What is it? You can ask me anything," she responded, smiling, her long black hair fanned over the pillows of his house in the Victor's Village.

"You love me. Real or not real?" She didn't hesitate, she answered:

"Real."

He couldn't be happier.

Come morning light, the sun crept through the open windows of _their _house. Katniss's Keeper remembered the time when everything was so blurry and she reminded him that he always liked to sleep with his windows open. He finally remembered himself. In fact, he couldn't think of a time when he felt more _like _himself. Happiness came, no Games, and he was with Katniss.

"I love you, Peeta," Katniss told him.

Peeta, Katniss's one and only keeper.

_/Fin./_


End file.
